Down in the Deep
by Moonlight1234
Summary: Gibbs and McGee get trapped in a warehouse with a cartel. Both injuried, trapped in a small room. Tempers flare, but deep down, they realize how much the team relies on one another. Written as a challenge alongside Teyerin,.
1. Chapter 1

"McGee, which warehouse is it?" Gibbs asked impatiently. The rows of long metal warehouses were confusing and annoying. Gibbs was losing his patience.

"McGee, find warehouse 12 in five minutes or Cyber Crimes for a year." Gibbs paced. McGee kept looking at the map.

"Boss, I swear I'm trying!" McGee apparently found the warehouse, because he pointed to the left. "Three warehouses to the left."

The two agents walked toward the warehouse. Gibbs walked to the door. It was already open, slightly, but open. Gibbs turned to look at his younger agent.

The younger agent was startled, too. "Boss, supposedly no one touched it. The cargo's been here two days." Cautious of the fact someone might be in there, McGee's voice became 'supposedly' let Gibbs know McGee was catching on to things faster. Some part of Gibbs had lost trust in McGee after the way his agent had acted while Gibbs interrogated his grandma. Before Gibbs was lost in thought, McGee slowly began opening the door. Voices boomed out, bouncing off the crates and metal walls.

"I'm missing twenty leaves! That means two people ain't gettin' what I said I would give! That means lost money and customers!" A slightly accented voice thundered. Gibbs was about to call Tony and Ziva, and tell McGee to cover the back, when McGee slipped into the warehouse.

Gibbs knew you never interrupted a drug trade without at least four people. The dealer would have guards, and there was the buyer. Gibbs crept in after his was crouched behind a crate. He met Gibbs eyes. Gibbs shot him a glare. McGee's light green eyes didn't waver, but then the voices began again.

"Two people! Poor you! You 'll live!" Gibbs could tell the accent was Mexican. Probably a transporter or worker.

"You ain't sellin' this stuff, so you wouldn't know!" The other , deeper voice thundered. McGee turned to his boss, and mouthed:'Chinese?'

Of course. McGee doubting himself again. Gibbs nodded. He wished Tony was here, he trusted Tony more than McGee.

"Well, I'm giving it to you! Now, my money?" The Mexican-sounding one snapped. The Chinese-sounding one chuckled softly and cruelly.

"I don't reward bad behavior." A gun went off. Gibbs turned to McGee. It wasn't his agent who fired. They heard a body hit something.

"Unload these crates, then the ship." The leader left. The two men began rustling. Gibbs shot McGee another glare.

Then, one of the guards, unknown to Gibbs, lifted up a crate near Gibbs, and caught sight if the old man.

The guard raced toward him. McGee turned and fired. The guard dropped. Ten other armed men looked at them.

Well, sh*t. Gibbs thought, he ducked behind his crate as bullets tore through the air above him. He crawled over to McGee.

"Great job, McGee! Now we get to get slowly tortured to death by drug lords!" Gibbs felt angry enough to kill McGee. This situation reminded him of Shannon and Kelly, murdered by a cartel. Now wasn't the time for painful memories. Gibbs and McGee returned fire. Two men dropped. They ducked down.

"Not yet, boss, start moving to the left." McGee fired some more bullets. Gibbs went out on a leap of faith, and wound up at a door. He opened it using the keys given to him by port security. He motioned for McGee to get over to moved as quick as he could with the heavily increasing automatic gunfire. He reached Gibbs.

"McGee, what the hell is-" McGee pushed Gibbs under a stairwell. There were bullet marks where they had been seconds ago.

"that? McGee, answer me, or I swear the Director will fire you if we get out of this!" Gibbs somehow didn't notice his agent was clutching his shoulder tightly, as if trying to hide something.

"It's a storage room, not used much because it's small. But, it's door is heavy, so are it's walls." McGee said, holding his left shoulder tighter.

"Okay, make a break on three. One, two, thr-" Gibbs last word was broken by bullets whizzing nearby. They made a run for the door. Gibbs got in, but not before something grazed his side.

McGee came in next, and slammed the door shut, locking it. Gibbs looked at his side. A bullet had grazed him. Deep, but not fatal. Not for now, anyway.

McGee noticed Gibbs was hurt. Using his right arm only, he tore up a piece of his shirt and put it on Gibbs's cut. Gibbs didn't notice the one armed fact of that. He was focused on not killing his agent.

"You shouldn't have gone inside! If you had waited, we wouldn't be in this mess!" Gibbs snapped.

"Like you never do anything like this." McGee said. Gibbs glared at his agent while he sank down next to Gibbs. Then he noticed his agent was holding his shoulder. And remembered he'd done the bandage thing with one arm.

"McGee, did you get hit?" Gibbs asked. His anger melted. True, McGee had gotten them in this mess, but he'd tried to get them out. It was also true that if this were Tony, Ziva, or Abby, he'd be checking them for injuries.

"Just clipped me. I'm fine." McGee said. His voice held a soft hostility Gibbs had never heard in it before.

"McGee, let me look at it." Gibbs didn't need to lose another agent. Not after Cassidy and Kate. What he wouldn't do to have come here with any other agent.

Gibbs left McGee alone, just so he wouldn't have to talk to him, and so he could think of other things.

He could hear McGee's jacket rustling, so McGee was moving. Gibbs sighed softly. McGee, he might be a good investigator, Vance might think well of him, but Gibbs didn't trust him. McGee was inexperienced. McGee was too loyal and forgiving. That made him weak. It would also get him killed. A burden on his partners. And yet, he had dedication to his job, so long as family didn't come in, and he was selfless.

But, McGee was kind of a nerd. He belonged with people of his computer knowledge. McGee also wouldn't kill easily. When he shot that cop, he became weak. Gibbs needed strong people. So, maybe he should send McGee to Cyber Crimes.

"Boss, I'm sorry." McGee said. Gibbs head-slapped him as hard as possible. All his anger in it. McGee nodded.

"Rule Number Eight. But apologizing isn't always a weakness." McGee said. Gibbs stayed silent. Then, he realized not all his anger was in that head-slap.

"McGee, how do we get out?" For the first time, Gibbs actually paid attention to his surroundings in this room. A few crates, that was it.

"Well, if they get the door down, we could have those crate stacked so they have to be single file, have a covered shooting spot for us to shoot them." The banging on the door stopped. Gibbs hadn't realized it was Chinese man spoke.

"FBI, if you come out, your deaths will be quick! If you refuse to surrender..." Gibbs sighed. That was the fastest time a negotiation had happened, maybe. Who knew and who cared? Gibbs decided to get some sleep. This case had been a busy one.

"McGee, don't give in." And Gibbs drifted off to sleep.

McGee sighed. He wondered what Tony would do. McGee was trying to be like Tony, who was perfect in the field. It seemed Tony might screw up in the office, but in the field no way.

He'd acted like Tony, look where they were. Been himself, not as bad screw ups, but screw ups nonetheless. Mistakes weighed heavily on him. He never forgot them. He always tried to improve himself. Since he'd gotten Gibbs in this, he had to get Gibbs out alive, he owed Gibbs. McGee never feared his own death, but of others deaths. He wished there was someone he trusted enough to tell what he thought, like this deep emotional stuff. His dog couldn't respond, only hear. The team had Gibbs, McGee had no one.

But maybe...McGee was a little jealous of how the others could lean on Gibbs whenever. As the Probie, inexperienced, he couldn't rely on his boss, or else he'd seem weak.

But even if he wanted to lean on Gibbs, he couldn't. He wasn't part of the 'family'. He was just a friend. He'd never fit in with any at school either. An eternal loner. Fun.

McGee thought of how his dad had called him, well, actually, left a message, on how McGee should've kept Sarah off the suspect list. And then, how he should've trusted Penny. McGee felt like he was failing his family. Maybe he deserved the all-time loser award. Maybe he didn't belong on a field team after looked at his left arm. He glanced at Gibbs, checking to make sure he was asleep. He was. McGee took off his jacket. Most of his shoulder was blood stained. Despite the bandage, blood oozed out.

The bullet had clipped him a lot deeper than he let Gibbs know. He put the jacket on. Tony wouldn't care about this, would he? Or Ziva?

McGee began working on his single-file-drug-dealer-guards-shooter thing. With one arm, it took longer, but he got it done. McGee quickly grew bored. The banging on the door had resumed. McGee was glad they'd gotten time off, he'd gone by the library and gotten books on architecture. Those books were the reason he and Gibbs were alive. Whoever said reading was dumb was an idiot. Out of habit, he flipped open his phone. One bar. Hmm...He clicked 3 on his speedial.

Tony picked up. "Tony DiNozzo."

"Tony! It's me! McGee! We're trapped! We need help!" What Tony got was trapped, help, and we're. Then what little connection they had, broke. McGee cursed the thick walls silently, then remembered that the door and the walls were what kept them safe. Tony was worried sick. He called Port Security. No, neither of his teammates had checked in. Tony paced the port security office. Ziva couldn't stand not knowing why they were here.

"Tony, why are we here?" Ziva asked. Tony wished the port security office would let them in. Waiting rooms made him edgy.

"Ziva, McGee called saying they were in trouble. The reception broke off." Ziva nodded solemnly.

"Tony, this is the port we were locked in a box in. Do you think..." Ziva brook off.

"No. But still, every crate is getting checked, by NCIS personnel, though." Tony had a soft bad feeling, but it was what Gibbs would do.

The two were silent for what seemed like hours. Port Security Captain Frazer McMaster walked toward them.

"Your NCIS agents checked in five hours ago." The Captain said semi-warmly. He seemed like the other Captain.

"The last Captain was helpful too." Ziva said. The new Captain nodded.

"I know of our former Captain's...behavior. I want nothing but this port to he secure for our Navy." A man dedicated to Port Security? Rare. But Tony believed him.

"We'll need your tapes." Tony said. The Captain nodded again.

"Any way I can. I want to help find your agents." The unspoken words were clear as day: 'I want to clean up this port's background.'

"Alright, then. Do you know where they were headed?" Tony asked. As far as he knew, the were apprehending a suspected drug ring.

"No, sir. I'm sorry I didn't ask." The Captain said. Tony nodded, and he and Ziva left the office. They drove around the port, looking for signs of Gibbs or McGee. They found the sudan near warehouses 1,2,3,4,5,6,7, and 8. Warehouses 9,10,11, 12, and 13 were quite a distance away.

"Let's start searching here. Just the two of us." Tony suggested. Ziva nodded.

"Tony, drug cartels are ruthless. Do you think they are dead?" Her voice was smooth and calm.

"Ziva, Gibbs is fine. McGee...who knows?" Tony didn't want either of them dead, but, McGee or Gibbs, in a heartbeat it would be Gibbs.

**Two hours later...**

"Tony, it is seven o' clock. Five hours, Tony. They are most likely dead. We searched One, Two, Three, and Four. They are gone, or dead, Tony accept it." Ziva said. Tony's blood boiled.

"Ziva, Gibbs isn't dead until I see his body! Semper Fidelis! Always Loyal! I'm not leaving Gibbs! You can give up, but I won't!" Tony realized he'd left McGee out of that. Tony had guessed McGee had died at the beginning.

"Sure, Tony, just leave out McGee! If he is alive, I will tell him you doubted him! Do you not know him at all? Forget it! I'm searching on my own!" Ziva stomped off to number Five. Tony was left confused.

How could he not know someone he'd worked with for a couple of years? Who he'd leaned on, and McGee'd leaned on him. What did Ziva mean?

As Tony stood there, it came to him. McGee never really talked about anything outside work. Maybe because he was an antisocial Geek. He never talked about friends. Sure, you weren't a social butterfly with a time consuming job, but you had at least one person you leaned on.

For the team, it was Gibbs. Most of the team. Not for McGee. McGee never really...bonded with Gibbs the way everyone else had. McGee hadn't exactly told them stuff, like deep thoughts. Ziva admitted her fears and stuff, so had the team.

McGee didn't lean on rocks for support. Maybe an effect of having such little self-confidence, not confiding in case you get teased about it.

Tony thought of his own teasing. McGee'd shrugged it off. Tony felt bad for teasing him, and doubting him. Maybe McGee had unknown strengths. Tony swore he would find his partener, and set out to do just that.


	2. Chapter 2

McGee grabbed the extra crates and began making a duck-and-cover in the left corner for Gibbs. Just in case the guards somehow broke the Single-File-Crate-Line. After Gibbs' was done, McGee worked on his. It was soon done. Now he was really bored. He moved his arm softly. It felt like liquid fire, and a little bit more blood flowed. Thank goodness his jacket was dark. He looked at his right hand. Bloody from his shoulder and Gibbs' wound. McGee counted their ammo. 60 bullets. Five rounds each. He was giving Gibbs his portion when he realized Gibbs was having a nightmare. Using his right arm, he shook Gibbs away. Gibbs woke up, startled, a fierce, feral look in his eyes. He took in his surroundings, and calmed down. McGee watched from where he'd jumped back to.

"McGee, nice defenses." Gibbs remarked. McGee nodded. In his dodging-a-startled-Gibbs maneuver, he'd slammed his left arm into the crate. Now the wound was bleeding again.

"Gibbs is your chest okay?" McGee asked tenatively. He needed to stop focusing on his shoulder. Gibbs checked, then nodded.

They sat in silence. Until McGee couldn't bear it. "Boss, I'm sorry for getting you into this. I really am." Gibbs should've head-slapped his agent, but this was heartfelt. Gibbs couldn't bring himself to do it. McGee suddenly felt a little weak, kind of dizzy. He looked at his hands. On the dry blood, there was fresh stuff, lots of it. Another weakness. Gibbs decided since he wasn't close to McGee, to talk to him. Why not? Life and Death situations were perfect.

"So, McGee, where do you go when you need to talk it out?" He could sense McGee's hostility and hesitation. He heard McGee sigh.

"I keep to myself. I will tell my dog, though." McGee answered after initial hesitation. That's a start.

"If you're hurt really bad, where do you go? To who do you go?" Gibbs asked. He wanted his agent safe. He didn't need more losses.

"My house. I would manage." Gibbs was beginning to think McGee was antisocial, when he realized McGee might have more layers than he thought.

"Not to your family?" Gibbs asked. McGee shook his head.

"No. Sarah's busy with college, Penny has work, Mom and Dad..." He shut that off. Gibbs frowned.

"We're your friends, too, McGee." Gibbs said. He wasn't good at this gushy stuff, only when needed.

"You guys are busy. You don't need a burden. I can handle myself, contrary to popular belief." McGee snapped. Gibbs frowned. This was OOC for McGee. Maybe McGee wasn't that bad in the field. Gibbs sighed. He never apologized. His team knew he was sorry. But then again, McGee didn't know him that well. He'd rather have a go-along team with a apology than an agent fuming at him without one.

"McGee, I'm sor-"

"I know, Boss." McGee sounded anxious and agitated. McGee was always calm and collected.

"Okay, then," Round a bout another hour passed, and they heard the door click. McGee moved to the empty duck-and-cover-if-need-be-behind-these-crates wall. It was smart. McGee moved his hands into shooting position. The arm movement made his arm like liquid lava, but adrenaline took over.

Strangely, McGee was calm. The seconds before a firefight were supposed to be tense and filled with worry. The men entered single file. Head shots happened. After a few deaths, the bodies were dragged out. McGee was about to move over to the door when a small object flew in and the door slammed was in front of his little barrier. He recognized it as a grenade.

"Grenade!" He instinctively turned away, trying to get behind his barrier. The next thing he knew, he was against the wall, with blurry double vision.

A concussion grenade. Even better. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard gunfire in the main area of the warehouse. He heard Tony yelling: "Federal Agents, freeze!"

McGee smiled to himself, knowing Gibbs was safe. Now he gave in to the darkness of sleep.

Tony kicked the dead men's guns away. He then looked around. The guards had been centered around one door. Tony moved to it, slowly opening it, preparing for the worst. It looked like a war zone. What remained of what he was guessing was to keep the enemy in single file was scorched and smoking softly. Gibbs was so good at this stuff. Two mini barricades, singed, smoking, and scorched. Tony moved to the left one. His boss lay on the floor, blood on his shirt.

"Ziva! Call an ambulance!" Tony yelled, searching for the source of the blood. A cut on his chest, bandaged with a bloody piece of McGee's shirt. Where was McGee, anyway?

While applying pressure to Gibbs, he turned his head. McGee's chest was red, moving from the left shoulder to the right. Blood pooled around him.

Tony abandoned his boss for McGee. He took off McGee's blood-soaked jacket. The wound was deep. Multiple bullets cut the top area of the shoulder. All making a nice, deep, bloody cut. The blood spread on McGee's neck and chest so it looked like his throat had been slit in a paramedics took them both away, and Tony was stuck with guilt, worry, a crime scene, a few alive guards, and bloody hands.

He called Abby and Ducky. He wanted to go the hospital, but Ducky said in this case, the fewer the better. 'Wrap up the case. We'll call when they're awake." Abby had gone the office, the air was filled with tension and worry. Ziva broke first.

"I cannot just sit here, waiting for news!" She snapped, throwing her hands in the air then they landed on her desk as she stood up. He thought of a way to save everyone on the third floor's lives. _Aha!_

"Ziva, we have three of the enemy

in custody. Want to have a chat?" He smiled, hoping she'd take the hint. A gleam appeared in her eyes, a smile, not of laughter, but of pleasure, formed at her lips.

"Oh, yes, indeed." The two went to interrogation room one, happy for something to help their teammates.

Abby was in hysteria. Her Gibbs was hurt. Her silver fox could be dying, or dead! She went to the head nurse's office. Thirty minutes of pacing, ten minute drive here. Forty minutes of not knowing.

"Ma'am, Miss Head Nurse, where is Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" Abby asked. The nurse looked at the computer screen and began to type.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Minor chest cut, minor concussion. Room 202, free to visit." The nurse reported. Abby was hurrying to that room.

Gibbs was sleeping. He looked handsome in sleep. Not so old. Except for the gray hair, of course. Abby grabbed his hand. Gibbs's eyes fluttered open.

"Hey, Abs, where's Ducky?" Gibbs asked. Ducky walked in.

"Here, Jethro." The pleasant English doctor smiled. Abby beamed. Then she turned worried.

"Where's Tim? Where's my little geek? Is he dead? Oh my G*d, no! I hope he didn't think I meant what I said this morning! I don't want him to be dead-"

"Abigail, Timothy is alive, but with blood loss and a slightly more major concussion, since he was closer and was effected more by it." Ducky said somberly. Abby looked sad, and stayed silent for about five seconds.

"Can we see him?" Abby asked. Ducky shook his head.

"Abigail, he must rest. Maybe later." Gibbs was confused. Blood loss? How...Oh. McGee had lied about the shoulder wound. It was worse. That blood wasn't from Gibbs, it was McGee's. The single-handed stuff. Gibbs felt like a failure. But he was angry because McGee lied.

"Ducky, tell me if he changes, and I want to see him as soon as possible." Ducky nodded, and departed from

The room. Abby squeezed Gibbs' hand, silent prayers and words flowing through it.

McGee slowly opened his eyes. He was in a hospital room. He looked around. His shoulder was throbbing. He knew Gibbs wouldn't be here, but he'd thought maybe a team member would be there. He forced himself not to self-pity. Gibbs needed the team more. Outside the door, he saw a nurse step aside.

Director Vance walked in. McGee sat up immediately. His shoulder hurt worse with the movement.

"Relax, Agent McGee," Vance said. McGee slowly sank back down. The pain in his shoulder grew softer. Vance sat down in a chair.

"Director, is there a special reason you're here? I don't mean to offend you, but, Directors normally don't visit agents."

The Director smiled. "And they said you'd never make it as a field agent. Well, I'm not the only one who thinks highly of you. San Francisco has asked me to transfer you over there."

McGee's mouth would've dropped open if he wasn't so shocked. San Francisco? Him? San Fran was the elite! No way they'd want him!

"Why would they want me? Why not Gibbs or DiNozzo?" McGee asked.

"Because, like me, they think you're one of the model NCIS agents. Anyway, DiNozzo chatted about where you were held. Agent Bowers contact in D.C. figured out you built them." Vance smiled. "This is an honor."

McGee nodded. "I know. It's just...I don't think I'm ready. I mean, I've only been working here seven years. And a few of those were in CyberCrimes." And McGee didn't want to leave his team.

"Well, San Fran said when you're ready." Vance said, he stood up. "Dr. Mallard's outside, I should let him in." The Director left, leaving McGee seconds to doubt himself, and his decision.

Ducky walked in. "Timothy, we were all so worried about you." Ducky sat where Vance had been seconds ago.

"Oh." For once, McGee didn't know how to respond.

"So, Timothy, how do you feel?" McGee'd always trusted Ducky, but now he didn't know if Gibbs was trying to get him to feel guiltier than he already felt.

"I feel fine, Ducky. Can I leave?" McGee wanted to go home, be alone. He wished he could charm a nurse into letting him out. That would be useful.

"No, you may not! You could've died! From the cartel or that!" Ducky said, pointing at the wound. "You wouldn't do us a favor!"

McGee felt a little rage inside him, too.

"Oh, so Tony, Ziva, Abby, and Gibbs can all almost die, but if I do I'm a bad person? Thanks for actually being honest, Dr. Mallard!" McGee immediately felt ashamed, he could feel his face burning. Ducky's was too

"I'm sorry Ducky." McGee whispered. He'd never felt more ashamed.

"Me too, Timothy." Ducky said. "So, how do you really feel? I won't tell Jethro."

McGee felt worse about having doubted Ducky. "My shoulder hurts a bit, and I have a minor headache. I'm good. I heal better alone, not at a hospital." McGee hoped Ducky would do some Dr. thing so he could get smiled, shaking his head.

"'No, I'm afraid not. You have to stay overnight. One night, then you're gone. And Jethro is dismissed, if it consoles you in anyway." Ducky smiled, gave McGee's hand a squeeze and left.

McGee relaxed, hoping to just sleep the night off when Gibbs walked in. McGee sighed softly. He knew what was coming.

"Why the he*l didn't you tell me about that?" Gibbs shouted, pointing at McGee's shoulder.

"It wasn't important. There wasn't time." McGee didn't want to argue with his boss, honestly, but...

"If we were still in there, you might've bled out!" Gibbs looked pi*sed and worried.

"Look, I'm sorry about that." McGee said. He was tired of being sorry.

"That can get you killed." Gibbs' rage was fading, McGee could tell. Gibbs just sighed and left.

Gibbs left the hospital. Da*n that kid was confusing! Gibbs might not be as close to McGee as Tony or Ziva, but he cared for him the same way, didn't he? There hadn't been anytimes McGee had deeply relied on him. Or maybe McGee just hadn't known the basement was open. Gibbs had never made it clear. Gibbs was soon home. When he saw his living room stained glass window, he smiled briefly at the thought of Shannon and Kelly, then trudged on into his house.

Soon he was in his basement, drinking bourbon. His chest didn't hurt much. He forced himself to relieve the day in his mind. He'd slept through some of it, trusting McGee to wake him up if need be.

Gibbs felt like he'd let McGee down. Not checked for wounds the way he would've for Tony, or Ziva, or Abby. And because he got mad at McGee for something Tony would do. He thought of when McGee had opened up a bit, but shut down. Gibbs wondered why that would be. He remembered Tony had said McGee thought Gibbs was a bit like his dad. Maybe he reminded McGee of that too much, and Gibbs again, hadn't connected with McGee.

Then, an idea popped into Gibbs' head. McGee said he would stay at his house if he got hurt. No. He would stay at Gibbs' house, so he'd know the basement is open. So he'd know he wasn't third or fourth, but equal to the others.

Gibbs put his bourbon cup on the table, and grabbed his coat. Noting to himself to buy coffee, he drove to the hospital, determined to stay with his teammate.


	3. Chapter 3

McGee woke up, ready to be dismissed. The doctor said fine, but if his shoulder opened up, immediately go to the hospital. McGee knew that'd never happen. If he was in the field, he'd still be fine. He never got hurt with the caliber Tony and Ziva did, because the team babied him. McGee was walking to his car -Abby'd drove it over- when he saw who was leaning on it.

"Boss, I thought you'd be in your basement. Drinking." McGee said. Gibbs shook his head.

"Or, I could be picking up my agent who I don't want re-opening his wound, so he's staying with me." Gibbs eyes held a no-nonsense look. McGee sighed, but inwardly thought it was nice of his boss. McGee tossed that thought away. Gibbs probably wanted to keep an eye on the Probie.

"No, boss, I can take care of myself." McGee argued. Gibbs shook his head.

"Director's orders. He wants you safe." Except they weren't, but McGee didn't need to know that.

"Fine." McGee sighed, getting into the passenger seat of his car. Once they arrived at Gibbs' house, they stayed away from each other, McGee doing the team's cold case files, Gibbs doing Gibbs-things in the basement. Gibbs looked at his clock. 8:00. No wonder he was hungry. He went upstairs. McGee might still doing cold cases. Gibbs put his head in Kelly's room, where McGee was. One child was still in that room.

"McGee, want dinner? We haven't eaten all day." McGee nodded, still reading. Gibbs sighed, going to cook. Maybe something out of him at dinner. Gibbs, while barbecuing steaks the _real_ way, thought of McGee. Both were workaholics, and not always talking about their sex life, or raring to go home.

Dinner was ready. For a few minutes, it was silent. Then Gibbs couldn't stand it.

"McGee, your dad called?" Tony's dad would've. Ziva's was head of an agency, so he wouldn't know, and he was across the world.

"No. It's not really his thing." But Gibbs knew the Admiral had stayed with his daughter the whole time while she had an arm broken. Son almost died trying to get info on a man trying to kill the Navy? Not even a 'is he alive?'

"McGee, where do you go to when you need to talk to? Honestly." Gibbs said.

"No one. They don't need my problems." McGee said. Gibbs wondered when McGee'd thought that.

"Well, families like to help each other. We can't help you if you don't tell us, though." Gibbs said. McGee nodded.

"Is it wrong to be closer to my team than my parents?" McGee asked quietly. Gibbs shook his head.

"Not if they treated you badly." Not all bad treatment was physical abuse. There was emotional abuse, making someone unsure of themselves, scared. Few people actually made something from that. McGee was one of them.

One of the effects of emotional abuse was not talking to anyone about deep stuff. In a way, if you beat it, the insecurities, then you become stronger, in different ways.

"Well, I just wasn't good enough. But I was good enough for NCIS, right? And that means a lot more to me than my dad's opinion." Gibbs nodded.

"You're good enough for us." Gibbs said. Another symptom was being loyal to a fault. For instance, no matter how bad McGee's father treated him, McGee would take a bullet for him.

"I hope so." McGee said. A few moments of silence, and McGee asked the question everyone did after dinner at Gibbs' place. "How does this steak taste so good?"

"I'm not just a workaholic." Gibbs said. McGee nodded, smiling.

"So, our team is a ex-Marine sniper, who knows everything, who cooks great steak and will kick a*s, a ex-Mossad officer who will also kick your a*s, a ex-homicide detective who is immature, annoying, and yet alive? We also have a wise, rambling, talks to the dead Autopsist, and a assistant Autopsist with a sometimes weird sense of humor. And a caffeinated, Goth, scientist, addicted to music? How do we get jobs done? And we have lots of 'Exs'"

"You made a few mistakes. Number one: there is no such thing as an ex-Marine. Number Two: you're on that team, don't leave yourself out."

McGee nodded. "So, boss, want to go to work tomorrow?"

"Well, workaholic, genius, computer-tech, who is about to get head-slapped , what do you think?" SLAP!

"I see boss." McGee cleaned his plate, and went to bed. Gibbs realized he hadn't talked with someone like that in a while.

**Next Day, Bullpen...**

"Morning, Tony." McGee walked into the bullpen, carefully placing coffee and food on his teammates' desks. Tony gave him a look.

"M-Geek, you aren't supposed to be here today."

"Yes, because my shoulder will rip open from desk duty." McGee sarcastically sighed. Two days with Gibbs, they hadn't been horrible, had made McGee miss his job.

"So, how was Gibbs' house?" Tony asked, his tone changed. He was worried he might not be a favorite. McGee looked at the ceiling. He and Gibbs had grown closer, but McGee wasn't part of the family yet. And McGee was fine with that.

"It was nice, having someone to talk to besides a dog."

"You talk to your dog,McDogWhisperer?"

"Tony, that was the stupidest nickname you'v ever called me by." McGee half-laughed. Ziva walked in, shaking her head.

"McGee, every nickname he calls you by is stupid. Who bought coffee? And, McGee, I am glad you are back." Ziva softly smiled, sipping her coffee.

"How many girls has Tony dated while I was gone?" McGee smiled. Ziva's smile turned full, Tony rolled his eyes.

"Twenty." You could tell Ziva and McGee were joking. "So, how much honey dust did you buy?" Ziva didn't register the quick look of sadness that flashed across their faces. Ziva didn't know they still missed Kate.

"One per girl." Tony smiled, happy mask back on. McGee flicked Kate away. He smiled while Tony and Zica teased each other. His dad had been wrong, McGee belonged here more than anywhere else.


End file.
